Clark walked around in the Fortress. Would Jor-El listen to any reason at all? He had to. Jor-El had to understand that being young means making mistakes. Clark remembered the vision of Jor-El in Kansas and the mistakes that he had made then. He has to understand and listen to me.
"Jor-El!"
"I know what you would say to me, Kal-El," came the disembodied voice that seemed to come from the walls themselves. "Nothing more can be done. I have changed time for you and told you it could only happen once. You must live with your decisions, my son."
Clark then heard another voice, more familiar than any he has ever known.
"No. He is my son!"
"What? What are you doing here?"
"Get out of my way, you blowhard! Only one person can lead him down the right path, and that's me!"
"This is most unnatural. How can you be here? Ouch! What are you doing? Ow… hey!"
Clark listened in fascination to the sounds of a scuffle. He could no longer hear his father's voice clearly, but recognized the determined tone.
"Stop that. Hey, that hurts. What do you wish me to say? I don't understand that reference. I will not submi… get your hands off me! OUCH!" There was a moment of silence, and then, "Very well. 'Uncle.'"
At that, there was a flash of light, momentarily blinding Clark. When his vision cleared he saw his dad standing there, brushing off his hands.
Clark couldn't contain the joy in his heart or the smile that erupted from his face. "Dad!" he cried, as he rushed into his father's arms.